The JackB

"When you're in jail, a good friend will be trying to bail you out. A best friend will be in the cell next to you saying, 'Damn, that was fun'." Groucho Marx

Archives for March 2016

Find The 5 People Who Set Your Soul On Fire

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She told me the secrets I sought were behind the green gate and then said I  wouldn’t gain access to what lay just beyond until the time was right.

I smiled and told her there was always a reason why the time wasn’t right and that I wasn’t interested in waiting for something that would never come.

“Good things come to those who wait.”

“And death comes for us all but when that day is, well none of us know now do we.”

****

I could share more of the moments and how wisdom was intermixed with witty but it wouldn’t advance the story or add much depth to the partially painted tapestry I have placed before you.

So we’ll skip that and talk for a moment about how many years ago the Shmata Queen and I discussed how many people you could fall in love with.

We’re not talking about average love either. we’re focused on LOVE. The kind that turns your world inside out and makes you rethink and reevaluate everything you thought you knew.

It is Love Between The Lines, the moments in which you realize something that happened and that life will never be the same.

Some several hours ago I sat with a certain teenage boy and told him that he hadn’t lived long enough to know as much as he thought he knew and that he hadn’t lived as hard as he thought he had lived.

When he asked me how I knew I just smiled and told him one day this quote would make sense to him in a way he could not understand yet.

“We were together. I forget the rest.”
― Walt Whitman

He made a face and I told him I was certain one day a girl would fix her eye upon him and that he might be surprised by what came next.

I said he might be shocked to find that one kiss could change your life and you would forever remember it.

What I didn’t share was how it could turn your world inside out and upside down but it wouldn’t have mattered because you never fully understand until it happens to you.

Find The 5 People Who Set Your Soul On Fire

When she asked me if I thought there were only five people who could set your soul on fire I said no, it had to be more because statistically speaking it didn’t make sense to limit it to only five.

Part of me was in awe at the idea that there could be a 100 or even a 1000 women out there who could do that.

I couldn’t help but think about the possibilities and how it probably opened up the entire world and wonder about the range of people.

It could mean women from every country and every walk of life.

But as exciting as that sounded it was also a bit overwhelming and I started to think about how it didn’t have to mean that the 1000 were spread out.

With my luck it was possible I could find out that 17% of them were lived in Fargo. North Dakota, 23% were in the Amazon and another 3% lived on some island in the South China sea that I had never heard of and would probably never get to.

Curiosity drove me into all sorts of crazy other thoughts but eventually I found my way back to more reasonable places which is why I also told my son if he was lucky he would find the five people that set his soul on fire.

who is sane

One day I hope my children have experienced that sort of love. I hope it doesn’t require a ton of heartbreak or heartache for them because I don’t want that.

But I do want them to have the kind of experiences you get by living and loving hard and I don’t mean that in the rock and roll sense of the words.

Real Locks Removed By Real Love

In the midst of writing this I stumbled upon Things Bloggers Write About and it occurred to me sometimes we write about how real locks can be removed by real love.

We write about the girl/guy who chose to walk away and how we chased after them only to discover they weren’t really there or that they had never really left.

Or sometimes we share the tiny tales about the lives we live and give you a chance to peek through a written window into worlds that are similar and yet altogether different from the one you live in.

You see the moments where we think we blew it and marvel at our success and or our dumb luck.

And sometimes as you and I are peering through the mist we find that one thing that moves us and realize we just learned one of the secrets that lie behind the green gate.

Parenting & The Limits Of Communication

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I stared at Love Between The Lines not knowing what I thought I would find but hoping it would just jump off of the page at me.

Stared so hard at the screen I wondered whether it would burst into flame or if my eyeballs would pop out of my head.

Not because I wanted expected or needed either of those last two things but because the first didn’t.

Don’t ask me why I thought a post about romantic love might help provide insight into better communication with a teenager because I don’t know if I know the answer to that question.

Maybe it is because in some ways the romantic communication has been as simple as communicating with the teen and maybe it is because it has been just as hard.

Both have had moments where I knew without question that I was in sync with their thoughts and understood their ideas just as I have been on the other side of whatever fall exists between us.

You know the one that we sometimes find with those we care deeply about.

It is that one that creeps up unexpectedly and instead of feeling like you know exactly what is going on you wonder what the hell just happened.

Because in the time it took to exhale you went from being on the inside of it all to standing on the outside.

Parenting & The Limits Of Communication

It is after midnight and I am sitting here on the other side of that old familiar wall but in a different role than I have been in before.

In that other role I have always had a simple decision, “try to convince her to talk it out” or say it is “time to move on and walk away.”

This is a different sort of heartbreak because it is the kind you don’t just walk away from. It is the one that nags at you because you wonder what the hell happened and how to fix it.

Sure you may look at your romantic involvements and ask the same sort of question but it never bothers you with the same sort of intensity.

These are the moments that are the most taxing because there aren’t well defined boundaries you can rely upon.

Teenagers by definition and nature are more challenging than the little kids they used to be.

More capable and independent they ride a rollercoaster you can see but aren’t given a ticket to ride upon any more.

So you watch and wave, shout encouragement and hope they’ll share enough about their situation to help you help them.

The Raw & Authentic Truth

The few who know me best understand this is…hard.

Why?

Flip through the pages and you’ll find the posts where I wrote about teaching moments and how I have done my best to help my children face adversity.

When they fell down I didn’t run pick them up. I waited to see if they were hurt and if they weren’t, I let themselves figure out how to stand up.

I didn’t automatically let them win every game because I wanted them to see what happens when things take a turn and figure out how to deal with it.

But I always paid close attention because learning how to deal with adversity shouldn’t mean crushing their spirit.

It meant being present so that they knew that I was here to listen and to talk. They needed to know dad always has their back and for the most part that has worked beautifully.

They are well adjusted, good students and happy children.

But we all go through our moments and our challenges and my teenager seems to be in the midst of something.

He swears he has told me everything that is going on and that there is nothing else I need to know, but I feel something sitting in the back of his head.

I can seem him working through it and though I truly believe he’ll work it out there is that piece of me that is concerned.

Part of me smiles because even though I sense this piece he is not sharing I recognize it. I see and remember the teen I was and hear a distant voice advise me to relax.

That teenage boy I was is reaching out from the past to promise me all will be fine.

Connections & Poetry

Somewhere in the echoes of the past and future is a girl who opened her heart and soul to me as I did to her.

Part of me feels like I could take out my smartphone and ask Scotty to beam her down to the planet’s surface.

I’d turn my head to the right and see a image shimmering upon the waves and she’d walk out of the waves like Aphrodite coming out of the sea.

I’d tell her everything and hold nothing back. She’d smile, take my hand and we would walk along the water’s edge and all that once was would resume and move from what could be into what is.

*****

Florence & The Machine are singing Shake It Off and I keep listening to her sing about it being hard to dance with a devil on your back and thinking about my technicolor imagination.

Why?

Because when I can’t find the puzzle piece to put the puzzle back together or use my tools to fix what is not working properly imagination kicks in.

And that image of there being a devil on my back works because I can feel its claws tearing at my shoulder blades and it is teeth trying to rip out my throat and I am happier because I am ready for this.

I am ready to do battle. I am ready to go to war. I’ll rip it from its perch and beat it to death with my hands.

But the thing is, the beast exists solely in my imagination so the beating I wish to give it lives there too and instead of unleashing my rage and frustration upon it I’ll have to just let it be.

*****

And so I go back to the walk upon the water’s edge and think about what Marlowe’s Passionate Shepherd said to his love and the truth of Dickinson’s comments about words.

The world has always been a place of fire and ice.

poetryandcommunication

The Last Words Of A Dying Man

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Sometimes I wonder what would happen if I didn’t wake up in the morning and the words you found here or upon my other blogs were deemed the last I ever said.

Don’t misunderstand that to mean that I am concerned about whether I’ll open my eyes come morning because I am not concerned.

Maybe it is because I can look upon 17103 consecutive days of life above ground.

Maybe it is because that is 2443.3 weeks of outrunning and outwitting the bony dude some people call the Grim Reaper.

Or maybe it is because I know things and I know it is not my time…yet.

The Last Words Of A Dying Man

There are some people who describe each day we live as being one step closer to death. If I chose to look at life in similar terms it might not be an exaggeration to say these could be the last words of a dying man.

And since most of us don’t have a solid idea when that bony dude will ask to punch our ticket there are those who say we should live each day as if it is our last.

They say that we should be cautious in our speech so that if this current round should be our last those we love will have only good words floating in their memories.

Because most people prefer that the final conversation with their loved ones isn’t something stupid and trivial.

Words are, of course, the most powerful drug used by mankind.
Rudyard Kipling

Children Of A Certain Age

When you are the parent of children of a certain age you think about these things more frequently because there are more moments where they try your patience than when they are little.

It is much easier to forgive a three-year-old for pushing and prodding than to let it go with the teenager who is old enough to understand why you said no.

You don’t get as pissed off with the 5-year-old for acting their age as you do with the 13-year-old because you know they are willfully and intentionally doing something to make you angry.

It is part of why blogging changes as your family ages.

You may own all that happens to you and have the right to write about it but you also earn the privilege of dealing with whatever chaos you help to create as a result of it.

The Change Is Coming

If you believe the mystics and prophets of the world then you know that what you seek may very well find you.

Maybe it happens because of the so-called law of attraction, maybe coincidence and or dumb luck.

I don’t know if it really matters, ask me when it is not almost 2 AM and maybe I’ll have a better answer than I don’t know for you.

What I can tell you is that for a while now I have felt change looming in the distance.

Can’t tell you what sort of change other than it feels quite large and  something about it makes me uncomfortable and antsy.

Anticipation—never my favorite thing.

But as time has passed I have gotten better at being patient and rolling with whatever changes are thrown my way.

Whitman is right.

behappynow

“Proof” That Father Knows Best

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Got Another Tricky Day playing in my ear and memories of listening to The Who while sitting in the back of a bus in Jerusalem.

The usual parade of images and characters flow through the mental mind map and I see multiple moments where I ignored my parents’ advice and or entreaties.

They are intermixed in between a ton of other moments where I was the model child as well as visions of exchanges with my own children.

It is too bad you can’t hear the words or see some of those moments because they are Oscar worthy, but that’s ok, my job is to find a ways to compensate for the lack of Super 8 footage.

parentalgods

Step inside the empty cavern between my ears and watch the movie playing and you’ll see scenes that probably look familiar to you too.

Because even if you aren’t a parent you are a child and chances are you can relate to listening to your parents and or ignoring them too.

******

A couple of days ago I shared thoughts about The Hardest Part of Parenting not because I thought people could relate to it but because I needed the clarity that comes from writing.

I needed to clear out the weeds that were obscuring my view and to give myself a chance to gain some perspective.

Why?

Because that teenage boy I call Steiner the Minor was in the midst of an extended moment that was making me want to tear out my hair and stick needles in my eyes.

I needed my own moment to regain clarity and remember who I once was and to see who I am today.

Too many days of burning the candle at both ends and a double dose of extra stress made me lose sight of the shore.

But the benefit of being a Taurus is being built to deal with the crazy and the chaotic. I may be a dreamer but I am also rooted to the ground and given a chance to find my center I always find my way.

Once I located it I found the right words to reach Steiner the minor and managed to get him to agree that sometimes father knows best.

It is too bad that is not recorded for posterity either because that has to be among my finest work.

Don’t ask if I rose to the occasion or if dumb luck made the moment happen because I don’t care and it doesn’t matter.

“Dad, I know what you are thinking. You are smiling because I listened to your advice and decided to try it your way.”

“Listen carefully and you’ll hear grandpa muttering something about payback and laughing. Sometimes I wish you didn’t inherit some of my finer traits.”

He rolled his eyes, muttered something about being his own man and walked away.

Another Debate

I am lost in thought, got Glen Campbell singing Wichita Linemen in my ear and damn if that doesn’t make me hear a voice or two.

Watched the Republican debate and made a point to pull the kids in to take advantage of the teaching moments it provided.

Somewhere mid-debate my daughter catches me rolling my eyes and asks me why. I tell her I am not enamored with any of the candidates from either party but explain the importance of knowing what is going on.

“We are a part of society and we have an obligation to participate in it. I won’t throw a vote away by not voting and neither will you.

The candidates are speaking and I am staring at Steiner the minor trying to figure out what the world looks like to him.

He’ll be 18 in a few more years, draft age and if I listen to some of the fearmongers I know the draft will be reinstated and he’ll be sent to war.

The warmth I felt from the small moment of victory I felt earlier, the proof that Father knows best is slowly seeping out of my veins.

It is not because I worry about whether he’ll be drafted but because sometimes I can’t believe how fast time has gone.

Is It More Dangerous Now?

Sometimes the guys talk about whether the world is more dangerous now than when we were kids.

I am not convinced that it is, just that it’s different.

Maybe it is because I lived through a chunk of the Cold War and signed up for Selective Service when people still talked about what would happen if we went to war with Russia.

In my day the Soviets were supposed to be the reason why Red Dawn and War Games were scary.

I partied with guys the night before they shipped off to Iraq for the first Gulf War and drank beers with them when they came back.

Flip through the pages here and you’ll find my memories of 9/11, of watching the Towers fall while Steiner the minor played with blocks in front of the television.

“Proof” That Father Knows Best

Bob Dylan is singing Tangled Up In Blue and I am not wasting any more energy trying to figure out if it is safer to be alive now or not.

It doesn’t impact my responsibility to raise my children to become productive members of society or to do what I can to help make the world a better place.

Dylan moves from singing about colors to Knocking On Heaven’s Door and now I am stuck somewhere between 1985 and now.

I see me at 20, full head of hair and a body that appreciates the three hours it spends each day in the gym.

He waves at me, asks me to explain what happened but before I can answer he fades away.

The kid I was couldn’t stop time any more than the man I am now could.

That’s ok, I am focused upon the present and living in the now remembering that for one brief moment I proved that that sometimes “father knows best.”

Something tells me that won’t be the last time I get to try.

So What? (When You Skim You Lose)

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If I asked you to look at the buildings in the picture above and tell me which one holds the smartest and most successful people would you be able to do it?

Would your odds of success be improved or diminished if I told you that you had to close your dominant eye and hop on one foot while looking?

Don’t bother trying to answer my ridiculous questions they weren’t posed with the intent for you to say yes or no, right or wrong or to throw your hands up in despair.

You’re Not The Best Writer I Have Ever Read

A former editor of mine told me I wasn’t the best writer I had ever read and that I ought to accept his criticism without complaint.

“Ed, the next time you bully your wife into going down on you I hope she forgets why she is there and suddenly decides that your schmeckel is the greatest hot dog she has ever tasted. I don’t want to just bite, I want her to chew.”

He rolled his eyes at me and tried to cut me.

“Jack, I don’t know how you think that is supposed to help me understand you any better.”

“Ed, you clearly don’t. I didn’t say that because I hoped it would help you understand me. I said it because I am frustrated and thought it was nicer than calling you a myopic fat fuck who needs to learn about the difference between editing for style and editing for errors.”

Confession: What I really wanted to say was far nastier and more graphic but professionalism and decorum didn’t allow for that.

aboutreading

Bloggers love to debate and discuss how to become a better blogger and what you need to do to build a bigger audience.

Not long ago I was told again that I need to spend more time working on my headlines because people don’t read, they skim.

I posed the same question to the expert that assured me that headlines were key as I did to you except this time I waited for him to answer.

When he did he told me it was impossible to say and suggested I had tried to make him answer a question that was designed to help me prove my point.

I laughed and asked him how many times people try to convince others by not asking leading questions and then moved on to my next comment.

“I want people who read to come and spend time here. I want people who do more than just skim. I want people who think and who ask questions. I want my tribe.”

I Don’t Need To Be The Best Writer You Have Ever Read

You know the sad truth is not everyone is going to like, love or appreciate your work.

Sometimes your mother is going to read what you wrote and silently think it is not your best, hell, she may even tell you it is your worst.

Me, well as you already know or can guess, I don’t care if I am the greatest you have ever seen.

That doesn’t mean I don’t want people to like my work. Doesn’t mean I don’t want people to love it either.

Hell, I know the Shmata Queen loves almost everything I write and not just because she told me so. I know because I know her well enough to know what resonates with her.

And I know people well enough to know that there are going to be times when you hit a home run and times when you strike out.

A thousand years ago when I was in sales I was told by one of the guys that I should change my style.

I asked him why and he said it was because I was an elephant hunter and that it would be better to have a 100 good clients instead of one or two.

I pointed out that I had been in the top 5 for seven years and he said, “what happens if you lose one of your elephants.”

I smiled and said I’d go back a few more.

Readers and Writers

It has been years since that conversation and I can tell you how the other guy shook his head and laughed.

Sometimes the way people try to help you is to force you to do things their way without any regard for whether it meshes with your way.

I tell my kids there are a million different paths and a million different definitions to and of success.

I tell them to learn how to go along and get along and to figure out when to do your own thing.

There has never been and will never be a time when readers and writers didn’t write or read past each other.

No matter what you say or do you won’t reach everyone. Some of it is because your words just won’t resonate with the others and some because

Some of it is because your words just won’t resonate with the others and some because they’ll skim your posts and miss the meat.

The best and most important thing you can do is to keep going, keep pushing and keep writing.

Keep looking for your tribe and know they are looking for you too.

One More Thing

Ed, I don’t know if you’ll ever stumble upon this but if you do I want you to know I still hope she bit down…hard.

And I hope you figured you out how disgusting it was to see your fat Cheeto-stained fingers drizzle crumbs over anything and everything.

If we ever meet again I promise to bring a you a tray of Ex-Lax brownies and a beer to wash them down with.

All of my love,

Jack

A Final, Final Comment

If this is your first time here I encourage you to spend some time reading about me and checking out the archives.

There are are all sorts of golden nuggets floating around here.

The Hardest Part of Parenting

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The hardest part of parenting isn’t the sleepless nights that come along with healthy infants or the early mornings that come with young children in the house.

No, the hardest part is having to watch your children take on a challenge that only they can overcome.

You can offer support and advice but you can’t do it for them. Doesn’t matter if you beg, plead, yell or scream at or for them either.

Why?

Because some of the human experience can only be experienced and or managed by the person in that particular situation.

So you sit back to watch and hope they figure things out sooner than later and with less trouble than you anticipate.

Many years ago someone told me that small children have small problems and big children have big problems.

It is not always 100% accurate, but what is.

Stumblefail

Right now I am watching and waiting. I have complete faith this will be worked out but dammit, I hate not being able to do more than this.

But the truth is that even if I could do more it wouldn’t be all that much because this moment is a teaching moment.

This moment is for the kid to figure out. Can’t stick them in a bubble wrap cocoon and even if I could, well I wouldn’t.

Doesn’t change the heartache for me. Doesn’t make me worry any less.

In this situation, well I operate off of past history, personal experience and faith.

All will work out, just might be a bit bumpier than I like.

In the grand scheme of things this particular conundrum isn’t huge nor life threatening, but it is a pain-in-the-ass.

And so I share my wisdom with the kids, remind them that they have a perfect record for overcoming every bad day and share Churchill quotes.

Parenting is not for the faint of heart.